The Elite Twelve: Unspoken words
by WingedGift
Summary: Camp Half blood knows of a prophecy that speaks of the seven quarter-gods, and they have already identified one of the seven as Percy Jackson's spawn. The question is, which one? Quarter-gods are scarce and discriminated harshly; follow as one particular group of Quarter-gods go on a journey to figure out the meaning of the prophecy and make their way to camp half-blood.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson.**

She was numb. It wasn't long ago that she had woken up in this hell hole. She awoke with the sound of a deep, gruff voice yelling at her. She remembered nothing, not even her own name. She was seventeen and had not one memory to call her own. Her life was hell, and she was living with Satan. From as early as the day that the man that dared to say she was his daughter, she had to start going to school, being forced to cover the purple bruises that colored her body. She didn't dare tell anyone of the abuse that was happening at home, but even if she wanted to tell them she couldn't. Not because of her abusive 'dad', but because she was a mute.

When she woke, she found it difficult to speak; whenever she opened her mouth, no sound would come out. Luckily, she somehow knew how to use sign language. That was one thing that pissed off daddy dearest the most; was because she would not, and could not speak. Being that he was a drunk, with a short temper, didn't help anyone. She lived in the darkest hole of Las Angles; the school was cheap and they couldn't afford a translator; even if they could, they wouldn't.

Her step mother… she was something else. She watched as her husband bet the teenager. After her dad had one of his tantrums, the woman would tend to the abused girl's wounds. Sometimes there was nothing she could do; like when he would break her ribs from punching her to hard in the chest. The woman rarely spoke, but swore to the teen that she would help her escape; let her leave, and never fear of having to see them again. The teen believed her. On the day of her eighteenth birthday she was to run, and that day was today.

"Bitch!" the teen heard her dad yell. She walked into the living room calmly. They lived in a small apartment; beer bottles and dirty clothes littered the floor. The smell of sweat and stale beer lingered in the air. The wife stood in the door way of the small kitchen; on the other side of the room, watching with teary eyes- face expressionless. He smiled a greasy smile upon the teenager's appearance. His balding hair was combed in his sick attempt to look 'presentable'.

"It's your birthday today. Am I correct?" He slurred. The teen refused to move, her stubbornness keeping her from obeying.

"Well happy birthday." He said, not putting any sincerity in it. She didn't know what his intentions where, but the wife did.

"Please no…" she pleaded, but he ignored her.

"I said, happy birthday." He sneered, standing up from the worn couch. Silence. He took a step forward, towards her. You could hear a pen drop; it was so silent in the room. The tension was high, as the man intended to take his abuse further then he has ever before. He took another step toward her.

"Where are manners?" he yelled in her face. She winced. At the sign of weakness, he grabbed the collar of her button down shirt and slammed her against the wall.

"You supposed to say thank you!" He shouted. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. She did nothing but stare into space, her eyes glazed over. He gripped her tighter.

"I told you to SAY thank you!" He repeated. She hung there, limp.

"Why you little..." He anchored his arm back. The teen closed her eyes waiting, when a voice called to her.

"Get out of here!" the wife cried. Her husband turned around at the sound of her voice and snarled at her.

"I'll deal with you later!" He then turned around to face the girl. Before he could realize what was happening, he was bent over and clutching his bloody nose. The teen had punched him, and had already bolted her way out of the apartment.  
>The wind was icy and nipped at her face. The teen was stunned as the bitter cold air consumed the night; being that it was currently in the middle of July. Her lungs were burning; it wasn't until her throat started to burn that she was forced to slow down to a jog. The street lights where on and the neighborhood was quiet. When a bus stop came to view, she stopped and took a breather. She didn't sit down on the bench, because she knew that it would make the pain worsen. She was about to start running again when she heard a gasp.<p>

"Oh my gosh! Are you alright?" A woman asked. The woman ran over to her crouching form and helped her stand up. The woman had blonde hair that was cut short; it didn't even cover her ears. She had the body of a swimmer and had golden, tented skin; your stereotypical California girl.

"Are you ok?" She asked, the teen blinked in reply.

"Look at you." She looked over the girl with wide eyes. The teen looked down to see what the woman was talking about. She was still wearing her button down and a pair of jean shorts; the teen blinked and tried to see herself in the woman's point of view. . . A girl wearing a torn, blue blouse, with many scare's and bruises covering every inch of olive skin.

"Oh! You poor thing! Here let me take a good look at you." She gripped the teen's face between her hands and forced her to look deep into her kaleidoscope eyes. A scene of a burning house reflected in the woman's eyes; people screaming and crying in mourning, filled the teens mind and then everything went black.

**A/N this is the last time, I'm not going to edit this story after this. If it doesn't work this time, I'm deleting it. I hope you guys like this version of it. **

**-Wingedgift**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. **

Explanation

_The doctor sighed in defeat and slumped into his office chair. Amy sat on the hospital bed with her head down, ashamed. In the corner of the room stood a translator by the name of Beck, she looked at the teen with tears in her eyes. The doctor rubbed his faced with his hands. _

_ "I'm sorry,'' he spoke solemnly. The doctor shook his head in disbelief. Amy played with her fingers, her hair covering her face. _

_ "Doctor Elko, there has to be something! Birth records-" _

_ "Nothing." He dead planed; tear's started to trail down Becky's face. _

_ "Though we do have some news." Doctor Elko began. "The reason for your mute state is from a birth defect. When you were born, the umbilical cord must have wrapped around your throat so many times for your esophagus to be damaged that badly." He laughed darkly._

_ "You're lucky you haven't suffered from any brain damage." He reported. Amy sat still, for the exception of her fingers. "We weren't able to get any DNA from your fingernails or skin to be able to identify your abusers." He added; _quick and painful.

_ "I'm sorry, Amy." _

Amy gazed into the mirror that hung over the bathroom sink, the glass was fogged over with steam because of the shower she had just taken. She took a deep breath; the scent of lemons filled her nose. Using her hand, she wiped away the moisture and looked at her reflection.

The last month had been kind to her; earlier in the week she had been running and that morning she found out that the woman who she ran into on the street had taken her to one of the best hospitals in Las Angeles. Amy was surprised to find that her hospital bills have been paid for, _before_ she even step foot into the building. She ran a hand through her thick blonde hair; If anyone were to see her now, they wouldn't be able to recognize her as the once abused teen.

She wasn't that tall, maybe about 5'4; her arms were thin, and surprisingly enough were femininely muscular. For the year that she had spent with _them, _she had been sickly thin; but her time at the hospital had done well with helping her regain the needed weight, this gave Amy hope. She was getting better. Her skin was the same shade of gold, but now held a healthy tone. Her face was rounded, with blond ringlets that fell past her shoulders; it was lush with color and volume. A pair of startling sea foam green eyes, with barely noticeable gray flecks, stared back at Amy. Yet, a shadow hung over those eyes, a dark secret she wished to never tell. She wore a white dress which she was unworthy of wearing; she did know that white was a color of purity. Hidden under the to-big-dress was bruises that were to stubborn to heal, and scars that would haunt her forever.

Amy sighed, and poked at one of the purple bruises on her forearm. Doctor Elko was fairly certain that her birthday was in the fall, making Amy seventeen. Being that she was under aged, her doctor had put her up for adoption; it was the law. Who in their right mind would want a broken seventeen year old? Amy still couldn't grasp the fact that she was leaving the hospital today, with her new parents. Well future parents; they were engaged to marry and her future father already had a son. After many days of trying to get the adoption approved and finalized they had finally got a new daughter. Amy was scared, not that she would voice her fear, she had only met the couple once and her past haunted her thought. She shook her head, wording off the negative thoughts; that was when a knock at the door interrupted her mussing. The door creaked open, revealing Becky's smiling face.

''You ready?" She asked in a sweat voice. Without looking at her, Amy took a deep breath and nodded. Becky smiled brightly and opened the door widely so she could walk past her. Before Amy left the small hospital room, she slipped on a pair of sandals that Becky had so graciously bought her just for this occasion. Walking down the hallway and in the lobby of the teenage psychiatric ward, Amy could see the sober faces of those that had kept her company over the past month. Many of them had scars on their body's, sitting on a couch was Grace, a girl that Amy had become friends with over her extended stay; she was abused as well. She smiled at the girl; Grace smiled back and waved her good by enthusiastically.

Becky led Amy out of the ward and to an elevator down; to the hospital entrance. Amy tool in a shaky breath as the doors closed. Being stuck in the enclosed space made her uncomfortable; she started to crack her fingers nervously. Amy jumped as a hand touched her shoulder.

''Everything is going to be fine.'' Becky assured her. '' If you get too worked up your throat is going to close up.'' Amy sighed, closing her eyes and started one of the relaxation exercises; the ones that Doctor Elko taught her. Taking in a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked up at her translator; Becky smiled encouragingly.

''We have given them your medication and the scripts. When you get home you are to take your afternoon pills, ok?'' the translated explained, Amy nodded her head. When Doctor Elko had figured out the cause of her mute state and about her injured throat, he had given her pills in attempt to help her regain her voice. Amy liked keeping silent, though she had indeed found her voice; only when she got to upset did she loose her voice once again. The Doctor explained it wasn't something to worry about, and after half a year, she could come off of the medication. On top of the vitamin supplements she had to take, it was a simple task. When the elevator doors opened, Amy's heart began to race; it took a moment, but she finally gained the courage to walk out of the steel compartment.

The Hospital lobby was busy; the afternoon sun filled the room with warm light. Amy could see them; they stood near a small fountain. They looked to be in their early thirty's, if not their late twenty's. There stood a woman with long, wavy, brown hair, and who had wide expressive brown eyes. As Amy slowly approached the couple, she noticed that the woman was at least a full head taller than her. Beside the woman stood a man; his arm wrapped lazily, around her waist. His shaggy brown hair fell in front of his face and his hazel eyes shown happily; he was at least 6ft. tall. Between the couple stood a little boy looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression. From what she was told, the boy was her new dads son; the mother ran off without a trace, leaving Kevin behind. Amy kept her head held high as she walked on to stand in front of the strangers.

''Amy, this is Ms. Flyn, Mr. Dunn, and his son Kevin; Your new family.'' Becky explained with a smile. Ms. Flyn was all smiles as she reached out her hand.

''Call me Lizzie," She spoke kindly. Amy appreciated the fact that the young woman didn't push the subject of being called 'mom'. She nodded politely and took her hand; Lizzies smile widened and looked over to Mr. Dunn.

"Call me Sam," His voice was deep and kind, he ruffled the hair on Kevin's head.

"Kevin, say hello to your new sister." Sam told the boy. Kevin grumbled his annoyance, and looked up, unwilling. His dark gray eyes resembled the color of an angry storm cloud.

"Hello," He forced out before going back to playing on his phone. Sam sighed and smiled an apology to Amy.

"Sorry, he can't stop reading even for a second." The man chuckled. Amy nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, taking in a deep breath.

"I understand." She whispered. From the corner of her eye, Amy could see Becky practically beaming at her. Sam held up a small backpack and explained to Amy that what little belonging's she owned were placed in the bag, and that she would be living with Lizzie for the time being. After a while of small talk, the new family eventually left. As they walked out the door, Amy couldn't help but turn to look towards Becky. Her former translator smiled tearfully and motioned for her to go on. Amy turned to leave the hospital, this time, she didn't look back


	3. Continue on

The waves crashed against the side of the boat, Abigail watched as the sun set; she was fascinated by the mixture of red and orange that shown brightly in the clear blue sky. The smell of the salt water below comforted her, but her nerves were still high, racing as fast as her heart beat. She looked down at the blue stoned class ring that lay contently on her finger. Questions raced through her mind at the possibilities; she knew where to go, they knew where to start searching for answers. However, are they ready to face the dangers to come? They were lucky that Hawaii had no monsters, but once they land on the shores of California, all of that would change. A hum sounded from the right of her.

''Beautiful isn't it?'' Abigail turned towards the sound of the voice, startled. The woman was short; she had black cropped hair that brushed across her forehead. She was wearing a pair of torn cargo pants and a black fitted Tee; the sun reflected of the watch that hugged her left wrist, along with a skull ring on her ring finger. Abigail was surprised to see a – twenty five, thirty?- year old woman wearing something that most punk teens would wear. She looked too, wise. The woman turned to look at Abby, her electric blue eyes shown with mirth, and then they dimmed with sudden seriousness.

"Many trials are ahead.'' She spoke; Abigail wanted to back away from her. Something about the woman said, _danger_. ''In New York there is a school, you will figure out what school that is on your journey. At that school you will find the others that you search for, I must remind you that they will not have any memory of who they are, just like you and the rest of your group of quarter gods. I am here to warn you, get out of California as fast as you can and _don't_ get caught by the romans at all cost.'' Abigail nodded, swallowing her fear.

''I got to go, someone won't be happy if I stayed any longer.'' as if on cue, a wave crashed into the cruise ship, spraying sea water onto the two of them. Abigail sputtered as some water got into her mouth and watched the woman roll her eyes.

''Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm leaving!'' The woman shouted, she turned to leave when suddenly a thought stopped her. '' and a warning for you Abigail: fear the gray owl.''

Abigail blinked and the woman was gone. She stood there in shock for a moment, her body shivered as she figured out what the woman meant. _ Fear the gray owl. _ After a moment she started to hear her name being called. Looking up she saw the twins running towards her, speaking animatedly about how the large boat had an arcade room. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she smiled and followed them towards the lower deck. Those four simple words burned still rang in her hears.

**Authors note: My writing has gotten better over the years; I had dropped this story because I was appalled as to how awful my writing style was. So here's my question: do you want me to rewrite it and continue? **


End file.
